


Biscuits are not breakfast

by DraconicSeraphim



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconicSeraphim/pseuds/DraconicSeraphim
Summary: Harry's eating habits would kill a man half his age.And Merlin may have to admit defeat.





	Biscuits are not breakfast

As much as Harry insists otherwise he is not, in fact, 45. Just like no one believed he was still 35 when Merlin finally convinced him that he had gone beyond the bounds of believability at 47. Harry might not have wanted to admit his real age but Merlin knew quite well that his best friend and sometimes lover was past his prime and still pretending he was in his 30s. Skipping meals, replacing breakfast with crisps or biscuits when he could be bothered to eat something before noon at all.

It wasn’t healthy for a man half his age. Despite assuring Merlin he was well aware of the fact, he refused to take even a single step towards correcting the behavior. And, no, Merlin did not count showing up at the office with a half eaten bag of chocolate pastries as “better”.

Which is how Merlin found himself in the break room one morning, horrified by the volume of low quality coffee his R&D team consumed, and reading the instructions on a heat n’ serve breakfast scramble. Some sort of sodium laden monstrosity masquerading as real food. Still it was protein and calories and a boost to the metabolism, even if not the healthiest breakfast option. 

If, of course, he could decipher the mutilated print on the bottom of a textured plastic container, far too small to be legible to any but those most skilled in cyphers. He has half a mind to send it down to one of the lads in coding but then he’d never hear the end of it. So instead he ends up with his glasses slipping down his nose so he can squint over them, distantly contemplating how long he has before he needs to look into bifocals. 

Harry, late as always, chooses this moment to slip into the break room. He heads for the kettle with such single minded determination that Merlin doubts he’s even register who it is he’s walked past. Not until he catches sight of the telltale plastic crinkle in Harry’s jacket pocket that indicates a half empty sleeve of biscuits. 

“biscuits.” Merlin keeps his tone carefully neutral, not an accusation but mere acknowledgement.

Harry doesn’t even have the grace to look ashamed, merely reaches into his pocket, slips another fudgey monstrosity from the sleeve and pushing it into his mouth with a nod. 

There’s a moment of tension where they both just stare at each other Merlin over his glasses looking more and more like a disgruntled headmaster with each passing moment and Harry fighting harder and harder to keep his expression blasé. It’s Harry that cracks first, a smug little triumphant smirk tugging lightly at his lips and Merlin surrenders with an exasperated sigh. He steps closer, pressing the package into Harry’s hands.

“At least pretend to eat something, will you?” And then Merlin turns to leave the room, as close to admitting defeat as he’s ever come.

Only to have Harry call after him, infuriatingly pleased in his sugar induced good cheer. “Perhaps I should just have you for breakfast, darling~”


End file.
